The art of conversation lies in listening

Just three and a half months into my new role as Chair of Greater Manchester Mental Health FT and I have started to reclaim my diary. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but working full-time in a role that is definitely meant to be part-time takes it toll. So last week I was able to enjoy my Wednesday completely free from meetings, phone calls and reading work-related reports. With the whole day stretching out in front of me, I thought I might go for a long walk. Unlike me, I couldn’t decide where to.

Now J always reminds me that we should try and walk with a purpose in mind. Perhaps to take in the view or perhaps to do a little shopping, or some other chore. I had a long list of jobs that had been mounting up, so I decided to do a 10-mile ‘round robin’ walk that would help me tick off some of those jobs. First stop, the vets to pick up Dylan’s flea and worming medication. Then it was on to the Timpson’s in our local supermarket to get a key cut for the wardrobe in our French Room (don’t ask). It is the same Timpson’s where I get my shirts and suits cleaned each week, and I like it that they remember both my name and phone number. Coincidently, and I’m not sure it adds to the story, but Andrea, the assistant at Timpson’s has just left to be a receptionist at our vets. Continuity of care maybe?

Key duly cut, it was a bit of a stroll into our next-door seaside town for a halfway lunch stop. The town is one of the reasons I like living here. It’s right on the sea front, has lots of interesting shops and a surprising number of café bars with outside seating. Great for people watching. My favourite is a microbrewery called The Shipwreck. While it serves a wonderful selection of original beers, it also has a fair range of wines, my preference. I took my seat outside, ordered a glass of red and a bowl of skin-on-chips, smothered in melted cheese, and prepared myself to enjoy an hour of people watching.  

I wasn’t disappointed. First up was a trio of older ladies who came in for a coffee and immediately started talking about how they would love to get married in the stunning wedding dress seen in the window of the local charity shop. The conversation soon moved onto the other benefits that being married might bring, a conversation far too risqué to reproduce here. Grandmother Denise made a slice of toast and a coffee last 40 minutes, during which she had a constant stream of folk coming up to say hello. Then there was Ernie.

He and his wife Irene were sitting at the table beside me. As they got up to go, Ernie asked me if I was in the rock business, and did I play in a band. It’s a question I get asked often. I once got free gins all night long from a group of folk who swore blind I was ‘that guy from Jethro Tull.’ I played along. Anyway, it turned out that Ernie had once played with Cliff Richard and with the Shadows (when they were the Drifters). We talked (actually Ernie did much of the talking) about rock and roll, guitars we both owned, how the world had changed and more or less life, the universe and everything. Irene was the personification of patience; I had another red wine and finally after nearly an hour’s conversation we parted company. It was an unexpected, but a very welcome diversion.

I had a similar experience the following day. We were due to have a visit from the NHS England Deputy Chief Nurse; however, she unfortunately had to cancel at the last moment. Colleagues had mounted an exhibition showcasing a range of activities and programmes they were involved in. I was asked to take a look and upon my arrival, I was asked to make a small speech, which I was happy to do. I then spent an enjoyable 90 minutes walking around the room talking to colleagues at each stand. It was an amazing opportunity to meet folk and learn more about what we were doing across the Trust.

There was much to find out. I didn’t know we had the only speech therapy service in the NHS working with homeless people and rough sleepers. There was a group of colleagues that work at recruiting nurses from overseas. I was impressed with the care they provided to people coming into a very different culture and health service. We had an interesting discussion over what we were doing to help develop mental health services in the countries we were recruiting from. It was clear we could and should be doing more in this regard. I loved spending time with our nurse researchers and hearing how they were using their research to transform services and increase access to care, particularly with children and young people. I met up with someone whom I last worked with 40 years ago, when she was a staff nurse at the Trust. She had enjoyed a fabulous career, working her way up to being a Consultant Nurse. She had since retired but had returned to support our Advanced Nurse Practitioner programme. It was a lovely reunion and an opportunity to say thank you for her service too.

Finally, I got around to talking to our educationalists. These were folk supporting continuous professional development, and who had raised the lifelong learning bar to a new level. I was really impressed with a couple of colleagues who worked on our preceptorship programme. We have been fortunate to buck the national trend in recruiting mental health nurses. However, many of these are newly-qualified nurses and need to be supported though an effective preceptorship programme for the first 12 months of their journey from novice to expert. The team’s determination to be there and work with these new nurses was positively tangible. They had a real passion for what they were doing and it shone through in their conversation with me.

I’m not sure therefore why I was surprised a day later to find out that last week we had been awarded the NHS England National Quality Mark for our Preceptorship Programme. It is an award that recognises our commitment to supporting new registrants and making the Trust a great place to work. Apologies to The Rolling Stones, being Chair is not all rock and roll, but on days like this, I like it.